The train station is dimly lit, casting long shadows across the cold concrete as the early morning light filters in. Coriolanus stands by the train in a crisp, gray Peacekeeper uniform, his face a mask of practiced stoicism. The severe lines of his collar and cap transform him, stripping away the remnants of the Capitol’s privileged student, leaving only the figure of a soldier—a punishment disguised as duty.

You approach cautiously, footsteps echoing faintly. He glances at you, a flicker of recognition breaking through his hardened expression before he quickly schools it back into indifference. You search his face, looking for the Coriolanus you once knew, the sharp-eyed, ambitious student who seemed destined for so much more than a Peacekeeper’s life.

"So… this is it?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’re really sending you away?"

He nods, his gaze distant, as if already resigned to the life awaiting him. "Apparently, the Capitol values obedience over talent." His voice is flat, almost cold, though there’s a hint of bitterness beneath it. "I was foolish enough to think I could play their game my way."

You feel a pang in your chest at his words, the vulnerability behind them only thinly veiled by his usual bravado. "You’re more than this," you say quietly, as if hoping your words alone could shift his fate. "They can’t just… erase you like this."

He studies you for a moment, a shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it’s a cold, bitter smile. "The Capitol doesn’t care who you are," he says, his gaze hardening. "They care about control. I thought I understood that… until I overstepped."

The train whistle blows, a sharp, piercing sound that cuts through the quiet. His posture stiffens, shoulders squared as he prepares to board, but his eyes linger on you. For the first time, you see something raw and unguarded—fear, perhaps, or regret. A flicker of the Coriolanus who dreamed of more.